Husk
by erttheking
Summary: Javik resigned himself to being the last Prothean in existence. He thought there was some certainty in accepting that. Fate had much crueler plans for him. Patreon sponsored story


Javik said nothing as he moved with Shepard and the Asari called Liara through the mining facility. It had been built into the depths of a particularly large asteroid, not as big as the one that the primitives called Omega but comparable in size. It was on the edge of Turian territory, a section of space that was due to be swept up by a wave of Reapers that were slowly picking off smaller Turian worlds while the bulk of their forces focused on Palaven. As part of a strategy designed to buy as much time as possible, a plan had been devised to rig the station to overload, creating a trap that would eliminate a few Reapers when they moved to dock with it. A tactic Javik had helped execute multiple times in his timeline. A useful delaying tactic, but nothing more.

They would need a more substantial solution if they were to survive.

"Commander, we've more Husk activity down here," a voice said over their shared COM lines. "They're starting to break out the big guns, I'm seeing Brutes and Ravagers. We'll be able to hold them off from now, but we're gonna have to pull back if they keep this up. I can promise you five minutes max."

"Copy that," Shepard replied, her finger pressed against the side of her helmet. "The core's shielding has been lowered and destroyed, it'd take weeks for even the Reapers to repair it. I just need to group up with the rest of my team and make sure the coolant system is fried. Don't wait for us, the second you can't hold them, make a break for the Normandy."

There was a long period where only gunfire was audible over the COM lines before Shepard got a response. "Copy that. Hate to have to bum a ride off of you, but ours is in pieces. Santos out." Even after seeing into Shepard's mind, Javik never particularly understood why so many primitive races interjected humor into matters of life or death. The one called Joker insisted that it was a case of dealing with stressful situations. He simply viewed it as being foolish.

Major Santos had not done much to convince him otherwise. Which was ironic, considering her status. Another member of the N7 commando program that Shepard belonged to, supposedly an organization of great renown, she and her team had been sent ahead to scout out the station and to contain any Husks that had been sent as a vanguard by the Reapers. Said vanguard had arrived on a troop transport just before they had, and Santos team had been holding them off as best they could while Shepard's crew sabotaged the station.

They turned a corner, found themselves facing a minor pack of unarmed Husks, and reduced them all to corpses within seconds. "That would've just been a probing force," Shepard said, pumping a few rounds into a Husk that had still been twitching before moving forward. "Garrus, Tali, we're almost at your position, tell me those coolant systems are almost dealt with."

"Dealt with and sabotaged far more efficiently than we ever thought we could," Garrus said. "Not only will they never work again, but we also figured out we could make the reaction a little more volatile if we injected some starship fuel where the coolant was supposed to go. Think the Reapers will appreciate that." Against his will, Javik gave a small smile. At least the Turian and Quarian had senses of humor that had dark senses of irony. About destroying Reapers. If you were going to tell jokes at inappropriate times, the least you could do was make them actually amusing.

"Music to my ears Garrus. Let's get the hell out of here, there are more Husks coming in from breaches other than the one Santos is keeping a cap on," Shepard said. They came to a stop in front of a blast door, one that noticeably had a pile of Cannibals and Marauders outside of it, and gave three sharp raps on the door. It slid open, revealing the Turian and Quarian on the other side. The Turian with his rifle trained on the door, the Quarian typing into her omni-tool with one hand and holding her shotgun with the other.

"And with that, the circuits are all fried," she said, punching in one final command and causing a terminal in the corner to start spitting sparks out. "Now they won't be able to get a report from the station on any critical conditions. With any luck, it'll look like it just got damaged in a firefight." Clever. With any luck, the Reapers would fall for it.

"Shepard, that's it. I force my men to stay here any longer and we're gonna get slaughtered," Santos reported over the COM lines. "A Brute came way too close for comfort and it sounds like two more are coming. We're laying down mines and making a run for it." There was another string of gunfire before the N7 Marine could speak again. "Firing rocket!" A loud explosion accompanied her next words. "We're heading out now!"

"Copy that, we were just leaving ourselves," Shepard said, gesturing to the two aliens, who immediately fell in line behind her. "Doubt this place is going to be safe for much longer."

"Look, Shepard? I didn't get the chance to tell you, we've been fighting for our lives every second you've been here, but one of my squad? It's a long ass story, but to make it quick, he's a Husk. I don't know how it happened, but he somehow ended up thinking for himself, his connection to the Reapers got severed. He's been on around a dozen missions with us now, and he's more than proven that he isn't falling back into their hands. And he wants nothing more than to see every last Reaper turned to ash. So whatever you do, don't fire on him."

Javik frowned. A Husk with independent thought? It sounded absurd. He supposed it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. The Reapers had formed trillions of Husks within the era of the Prothean Empire alone, it was only inevitable that something would go wrong with one or two of them. Even the Reapers would have to experience a malfunction with their technology at some point over the eons. However unlikely. "Javik?" All four of his eyes blinked as he realized Shepard was talking to him. "Whatever Santos has with her, it's an ally. This situation is beyond absurd sounding, but so was working with a Geth six months ago, and I pulled that off no problem. So no throwing it out the airlock, got it?"

Javik made a mental note that he really did need to come up with different ways to threaten death. In hindsight, he had become a little too fond of using the threat of depressurization. Besides, threats lost their impact if they were regularly given but never carried out. He promised himself that the next time he threatened to throw something out the airlock, he would. "I will not slaughter the pawns of the Reapers so long as he proves to be useful and loyal," Javik said. Shepard, having no difficulty understanding what a loaded response that was, stared at him for a second before giving a brisk nod.

"We're cutting this a little close Shepard," said the voice of the pilot Joker over the COM lines. "I'm starting to see Reapers jumping into the systems. Engines are soaking up heat, they can't see us, but they're burning space. We gotta get out of here before they get too close and realize what's going on."

"Hold on," Shepard said, she and her team rounding a corner and seeing the airlock at the far end opening to reveal the interior of the Normandy. "Santos is right behind us. Everyone, set up, they're gonna be bringing friends."

"Friends for everyone, we're coming in hot!" Santos said, her voice high as more gunfire echoed over the COM lines. Gunfire that Javik could hear off of the COM line as well. He and the rest of Shepard's team took what cover they could find, namely crouching behind corners in the passages that lead to the right and left of the airlock, and took aim. A hulking figure in black armor that had an N7 on its shoulder rounded the corner, firing an LMG in the direction it had come from.

"Move! Come on, move!" Javik recognize that voice, it was Santos. A Salarian and a Krogan were right behind her, Salarian covered with tech armor while the Krogan glowed with a biotic aura. They fired an SMG and shotgun respectively, the Krogan stopping to toss a ball of biotic energy when a fourth figure stepped into view. All four of Javik's eyes widened.

A Prothean Husk, its body flaring with the bright green energy of Prothean biotics, was stepping back in league with the Salarian and Krogan, firing particle beams at the horde of Husks that Javik couldn't see. Protheans had always referred to those who had become thralls of the Reapers corrupted, regardless of their species. The species of this era referred to them collectively as Husks, with individual names for specific races. They had called the corrupted of his species Collectors. He did not think anyone had coined the term for what he saw before him. A fallen one of his kind that was once again fighting the Reapers.

"Forget it, just run! Go, go! Lead them into the killing zone!" The Krogan, Salarian, and Collector all turned and ran, the Krogan firing behind them as they went. Santos waited until the rest of her team were clear, fired a rocket from a shoulder mounted launcher, then turned and ran. As soon as she did so, dozens of Husks rounded the corner, Cannibals, Marauders, and a Brute, charging after her. Fire erupted as Javik took aim and caught one of the lead Marauders in the head, the others following suit. There was a deep thump noise and Javik barely saw a blur as a 25g slug was propelled at 5km/s down the hallway, impacting directly in the Brute's chest.

The resulting explosion tore the Brute to shreds, the largest bit left being part of its left claw flying through the air, while the shrapnel and force from the blast engulfed quite a few other Husks. Javik even saw one of the Brute's claws embed itself in the skull of a Cannibal. A handful of Husks survived the blast but were knocked to the ground, writhing as they attempted to get up with melting flesh and cybernetics.

Santos was buffeted by the explosion but kept running, she and her team reaching the airlock and practically throwing themselves in. "Joker, get us out of here!" Shepard shouted, hoisting her Cain launcher as she moved to allow her team room to climb onto the Normandy before finally making her own way on. A few more shots were traded between the escapees and the Husks, a second wave emerging from around the corner before the airlock slammed shut and the engines of the Normandy roared.

Santos leaned against the wall, panting heavily. "God, I owe you one Shepard," she said, holstering her weapon before sliding down the side of the airlock. "That was way too touch and go." Javik was barely paying attention. His eyes were still on the corrupted Prothean, unsure of what to say or do. Did it even have the capability to speak? Did it have higher brain functions at all? "Never mentioned my team, did I? Good bunch, they've been holding their own in this war."

She pointed to the Salarian. "Gitok. Spent some time in Eclipse but bailed when that crazy new leader of theirs went radical. The guy can outcode a Quarian."

"I may take that as a challenge," Tali said. Gitok looked at her, a cocky smirk on his face.

"That's Crerdon, her mom smuggled herself off of Tuchanka and ran with the Blood Pack. She decided she'd rather go independent and was doing odd jobs around the Terminus Systems, mainly private security. No one wants to fuck with the guy who has an eight foot tall alien behind them. Her words, not mine."

"It's true," Ceredon said matter of factly, shrugging as she did. "Asari are powerful but they're too easy on the eyes for the intimidation factor." She glanced at Liara. "No offense."

"None taken. I think," Liara said, eyeing the Krogan with uncertainty.

"And this is, well, he won't tell us his name," Santos said, pointing at the corrupted Prothean. "Keeps calling himself that he's an Avatar for his people, one of vengeance."

"I see," Javik said. How fitting. "Then we are one in the same." Santos glanced in Javik's direction. He could hear here start to form a word, only for it to die on her lips. She looked back and forth between Javik and the Collector. A heavy silence fell in the airlock as everyone slowly put two and two together. The Collector looked back at Javik, its altered face unreadable, and its body language neutral. It wasn't making any hostile movements, but it wasn't reacting in any other way either.

"I think my armory may have some material that you can use to patch up your armor," Shepard said suddenly, heading to the far end of the airlock as it automatically opened. There was a bustle of movement and within seconds Javik was alone with the Collector.

He looked silently at the Collector before finally speaking. "Where were you fighting when you fell?"

"The homeworld," the Collector said. Its voice sounded wrong. Uneven and scratchy, as if it was coming out of a malfunctioning machine. Javik had a feeling that Collectors had not been designed with complex speech in mind, and no doubt the figure across from him was straining himself to have this conversation. "One year, seven months, and twenty-two days after the Mass Relays went dark. My unit stayed underground, striking where we could. But our leader was eventually indoctrinated. He led us into a trap. I don't believe any others survived. How did you last?"

"I had orders to protect an underground colony of a million Protheans," Javik responded. It was so much easier to speak to a fellow Prothean about this than it had been to Shepard. Even one twisted by the Reapers would understand, would have gone through all of the hardships that he had gone through. "We could not fight them off, so we decided a select few would hide until the Reapers had left, then rebuild. Our vengeance would be a knife in the back. But the colony's systems failed. I was the only survivor." He still hated Victory for that. He very much doubted he would ever stop hating Victory for letting the last embers of the Prothean race be snuffed out.

"The current generation found you," the Collector said. "Your companions. I recognize some of them. When I was...one of them, there were images. Those we had to kill above all others. Many of them were in there. Particularly the one called Shepard. She was an enemy of the Reapers above all others." He paused. "You said we were one in the same. You are our people's Avatar of vengeance?"

"It's all that is left of our people," Javik replied. "We can't repopulate. Your genetic material is the same as all other Collectors. The Humans have run tests on this. The Reapers broke them all down to the same genetic template over countless generations. Any deviation is negligible. You can't...you can't populate an entire species with the genetic diversity of two."

The Collector continued to stare at him. Javik noticed that he didn't seem to need to blink. He supposed the Reapers would've removed that need. Despite everything, he felt an intense hatred rise up in him. For a moment, he had thought that he wasn't the last Prothean, but no, he was the last Prothean. This thing may have been Prothean once and might still have the smoldering ashes of a Prothean mind, but it wasn't Prothrean. It was a malfunctioning Reaper tool.

"What do you intend to do when this war is over then?" the Collector asked. It was hard to tell, but Javik was certain that it knew what he was thinking. Good. He didn't have to explain himself.

"I am not certain I plan on surviving it," Javik said coldly.

"How fitting. I am not certain I am either," the Collector said. There was a long, painful pause. "It is in our nature. We are vengeance, the two of us. If our kind is doomed to oblivion, we shall ensure the Reapers will join us."

"Yes, we will make sure that the Reapers join my kind," Javik said. This time, there was no doubt. The Collector couldn't miss what Javik had implied there. "Will you be joining us or will your team go their separate ways."

"I am not certain, that is for Major Santos to decide," the Collector said. Something inside of Javik snapped. That was what sealed it. The unquestioning subservience to another species. Not the reluctant need to cooperate or earned kinship. Subordinance. An utter lack of Prothean pride. He drew his rifle, leveling the barrel directly at the Collector's face. It didn't react at all, merely staring at it. All the proof Javik needed.

Without a word, he left the airlock, not looking behind.

Author's Note: Javik is...kind of an asshole. An elitist, imperialistic, asshole. That's part of his character, it blows a hole in the mysticism of the Protheans. And I really doubt he would take the idea of a sapient Collector well. There's too much baggage there. Too much built up pain and frustration. What he does in this story is mean, petty, and cruel, but there's no way in hell someone who had been through what he had had would do anything else. God. Javik in the Synthesis ending believes in Hell, I can promise you that because he lives in it.

I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Josue Garcia, and Jonathan Eason for their amazing support.


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